


Wreck and Ruin

by Deonara2012



Category: GOT7
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 10:57:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2729879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deonara2012/pseuds/Deonara2012
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the disaster, JB just wanted to find everyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wreck and Ruin

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, don't ask me.

The earth - floor, whatever - stopped moving before JaeBeom tried to get up. He couldn’t see much because of the dust. The walls must have cracked, because he could see the dust, just not anything else. He looked around what had once been a nice practice room, trying to find everyone, only to remember that they’d all left, for drinks and bathroom breaks and probably food they weren't supposed to have, if he knew YuGyeom. Bottomless pit, that one. 

He took a breath to call, and breathed in enough dust to drop him back to the floor with a coughing fit that took forever to calm down. With a groan, he pulled his shirt over his mouth and nose and tried again, breathing in before pulling it down and yelling. “JinYoung! Mark! Jackson, is anyone there?”

“Here!” came a shout in the direction he thought might be where the hall was, so he started that way, stumbling over pieces of wall and ceiling and possibly something else, although none of it gave so hopefully not legs or head or something as gruesome. It took so long to get through the mess, only to find the hall looked almost worse, and a slab of the ceiling (still with someone’s desk on it) had crashed down. Something caught his eye under it, and he winced when he recognized Jackson’s shoe. He couldn't tell if his foot was still in it, but considering the pool of red….

He turned away before he could lose his lunch, took a breath (still with his shirt over his nose and mouth, he’d learned that lesson), and called again. “YoungJae! Bambam! YuGyeom, where are you?”

“Here!” again, clearer, thankfully away from the slab of ceiling. “JaeBeom-hyung?”

Which ruled out no one but Mark, but the dust and the noise and sheer insanity of the whole thing made it impossible for him to figure out who called. “Yeah. Keep talking, I’m on my way.”

Halfway there, he realized he spoke with YuGyeom, because the maknae had resorted to reciting school work to keep speaking. Someone asked him questions, so at least he wasn't alone.

He came upon them a few minutes later, YuGyeom cradling Mark in his arms, the redhead barely conscious. JaeBeom leaned cautiously on YuGyeom's shoulder. “How is he?”

“Oh, it hurts,” Mark said, his Korean slurred. “But I’m alive. Anyone else?”

JaeBeom straightened. “I… haven’t seen anyone but you,” he said, a lie he’d tell again and again until he knew for sure what had happened to Jackson. “YuGyeom?”

“I’m okay,” the maknae said. “Are we okay here?”

JaeBeom shook his head. “I don’t even know. Do you know where the rest went?”

“We didn't see Jackson-hyung,” YuGyeom said. “But the rest were down that way.”

Further down the hall. Good. “I’ll see if I can find them,” he said, and with another pat on YuGyeom's shoulder, he started going on. “JinYoung! Bambam! Where are you guys? YoungJae? Jackson?”

He heard something and stopped to listen, trying to figure out where the noise had come from. When it didn't repeat, he moved on. At least the building had stopped groaning, stopped sounding like a living thing, and he could focus on…. “JaeBeom?”

He nearly stumbled. “Yes! Where are you?”

“By the vending machines,” came the answer, and JaeBeom struggled to work his way in that direction, not as disoriented as he’d originally thought. 

“Keep talking, I’m still trying to make sense of this.”

A dry laugh met his words, one he recognized as JinYoung’s. Thankfully. “You can’t, because there is no sense,” JinYoung said.

“Are you alone?” He had to stop and navigate through deeper debris - pieces of a desk, papers, and pencils that rolled under his feet and nearly dropped him to the floor.

“No. I've got Bambam. He’s probably got a broken arm, but he’s lost all his Korean and can’t tell me if there’s anything else wrong.”

JaeBeom felt himself smile, and he mentally thanked JYP again for introducing them. “What about you?” He turned the corner and spotted them, huddled together next to one of the machines, dust covered but without blood, as far as he could see. JinYoung had his arm around Bambam’s shoulders.

JinYoung grinned at him. “Oh, I’m fine,” he said, his voice strained. “Where….”

“YugYeom and Mark are about halfway between here and the practice room,” JaeBeom said. “I haven’t seen Jackson or YoungJae. Any ideas?”

JinYoung shook his head. “Jackson usually goes the other direction, I think he talks to one of the trainees. YoungJae….”

Bambam gestured further on down the hall and whispered something. JinYoung looked up at JaeBeom. “He went outside.”

The courtyard. Crap, that could be really bad…. JaeBeom nodded. “Okay. You stay here. I’m going to try to find him.”

“What about Jackson?”

“After YoungJae,” JaeBeom said, and turned away before his friend could give him the knowing smile he knew JinYoung would. 

He kept going, stumbling more because he’d had a long day already and he wanted a rest, something. Every few minutes he called for YoungJae, sometimes adding in Jackson’s name, just in case…. but with every call, when he heard no answer, his heart sank further. What if YoungJae had gone with Jackson, what if, what if….

A bright light shone in his eyes and he flinched away from it, hands up to block it. “Found one!” someone behind the light yelled, and JaeBeom looked up, trying to see past the light no longer in his eyes. Someone took his shoulder. “What’s your name.”

“Im JaeBeom,” he said, and gestured back, desperately. “There are others, two of them not too far, a couple more further down. One’s got a broken arm, probably, and I didn't ask about Mark….” He shook his head. “Did you find anyone else?”

“There were a few who got out, yeah,” the man said. “I’ll get to your friends. You go with him.” He passed JaeBeom off to someone else. He followed numbly, stumbling worse now, even with the hand on his arm.

“What happened?” he asked as they stepped through a hole in the wall - the door was three feet to the right - and then he heard a shout.

“Hyung!”

JaeBeom looked up just in time to catch a sobbing YoungJae, who held him so tightly he didn’t know if he’d breath again. “Hey,” JaeBeom said. “You’re okay?”

The medic - JaeBeom could see, now - didn't try to make YoungJae let go, but did urge them over to an area set aside where others had gathered, all of them casualties of what had happened. “Yeah, sort of,” YoungJae mumbled into his chest. “What about everyone else?”

“I found everyone but Jackson,” JaeBeom said, sinking down gratefully onto a cot. YoungJae sat next to him, still not letting go. “They said he went the other direction.”

“He usually does,” YoungJae said. “They… so they’re all okay?”

“Mark looked pretty bad, and Bambam had a broken arm, but as far as I know, they’ll all be okay.” All but Jackson, but he wouldn't say anything until he knew. “You haven’t seen Jackson?”

YoungJae shook his head. “No.”

It took hours to hear what had happened, to find out that Jackson had been one of the casualties of a bomb someone had left in an office just upstairs, that the desk JaeBeom had nearly slipped on had been in the office that had held the bomb. Sometime after that, they heard that there had been two bombs, not just one. By then, JaeBeom had managed to sleep a little, had found out that Mark had the worst injuries, but he’d recover fine. He also hadn't once been alone, even when YoungJae’s parents had come to see him. His main vocalist had refused to leave, turning frightened eyes on anyone who asked. 

JaeBeom understood and welcomed the company. Mostly because he felt like he might drown under the guilt of having lost one of his. And he found YoungJae soothing, always had. 

The manager appeared - looking as much worse for wear as the rest of them - and gathered up everyone but Mark to take them home. JaeBeom didn't want to go, but with YoungJae on one side and JinYoung on the other, he didn't have much of a choice. He managed to get a promise from the nurse about any updates they might have on Mark, and then they all piled into the van and went back to the dorm. Before the manager even proposed food, they’d all decided to just go to bed, and JaeBeom made sure everyone was comfortable before dropping onto the mattress he shared with YoungJae.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked when YoungJae scooted closer, nestling next to him.

“I’m sure,” YoungJae mumbled into his sleeve. “Just worried. Sleep, hyung. Tomorrow is going to come early.”

Probably not, JaeBeom thought, but he didn't say anything, feeling YoungJae’s breathing even out as he fell asleep. JaeBeom took a deep breath and relaxed, eyes closed against the tears he could feel running down his face. At least no one saw it, and he could feel at least some relief that he hadn't lost more than one of his friends.

He woke up some hours later to find someone pressed against his other side, someone else curled around YoungJae, and he blinked to try to make his aching eyes work. JinYoung lay on the side away from YoungJae, Bambam pressed against him, and YuGyeom had curled around YoungJae, looking somewhat forlorn even in his sleep. JaeBeom sighed and closed his eyes again.

Somehow, he knew they’d be okay. Someday.


End file.
